Let's Release
by spicehnoodles
Summary: Daryl didn't realize he still didn't let go of his inner demons until he met Beth's. Beth didn't realize she had inner demons until she met Daryl's. Both learn to understand, grow, and love together.
1. entrance

"Please?"

"Fuck off, Rhee."

"Daryl, c'mon ... Please?"

"I ain't doing no double date with you and some random chick."

"Hey, hey. She's not some random chick. She's my girlfriend's sister."

Daryl watched the smoke float into the air from his lit cigarette. The night was cool. Surprisingly enough, no trace of goosebumps appeared on his arms even with him donning a sleeveless.

Glenn's nose wrinkled from the secondhand smoking. "Just make small talk. I'm not asking you to marry her," he continued pleading.

Seeing his friend beg so pathetically was amusing. He'd be taunting him about it if the words coming out of his mouth weren't so ridiculous.

He remained adamant. "No."

"What, you allergic to girls now or somethin'?"

"I'm allergic to your voice, so shut it already, damn. I said no, Glenn."

"Daryl."

He owed Glenn a lot. Mainly for him remaining his friend even with his unsociable attitude. He just really hated dates. Or any social interaction whatsoever.

Daryl met Glenn when he was still a pizza delivery boy. When he met Glenn, it was his first day. A few minutes after he gave Daryl his pizza, he came back asking for directions to get out of his neighborhood.

Because of Daryl, Glenn wasn't fired and became a master at directions. Because of Glenn, Daryl had a friend.

He sighed, putting out his cigarette underneath his shoe. "Pretty sure you're aware I ain't the nicest guy 'round these parts."

"The whole damn neighborhood is aware of the Dixon hospitality." But Glenn was grinning because he knew Daryl relented.

"Ain't buying her flowers or shit like that."

"Dude, at least take a shower. It won't kill you."

"All ya do is nag nowadays, Glenn. You my wife or somethin' now?" Daryl playfully punched him on the shoulder before heading back inside his apartment.

Daryl wasn't one to worry about relationships with women. He never really had one — or one that lasted a week. Made out with 'em, slept with 'em — that was it. The closest relationships he had with women were with his ma and Carol.

God, he hoped the girl didn't yap her mouth off or expected anything from him. All he had to do was accompany Glenn. Nothing else. He wasn't going to entertain her.

"So where's it gonna be at?" he asked, flopping on the couch.

Glenn joined him and grabbed a can of beer on the coffee table. "This pub. It's a mile or two down your apartment."

"You ever met her sister?"

"Nah, it's gonna be my first time. Same as you."

"Huh."

Daryl reached over and grabbed a beer himself. He opened it swiftly and took and swig of it.

"What'd ya hear about her?"

Glenn smiled knowingly at him. "So eager to know about her."

"Shut up. Just wanna prepare myself 'fore meeting her. Make sure I bring my crossbow 'case she's a psycho."

Glenn let out a brief chuckle. "Maggie didn't say much. I think it's kinda tense between them. All I know is that her name is Beth and she's younger. They're also half-siblings. Same dad, different mom. That sorta stuff."

As if it wasn't going to be awkward enough between Daryl and the girl. Now he had to deal with another brand of uncomfortable between the sisters.

**—**

The men were seated at a table near the wall but with a perfect view of the stage. Daryl wanted an area that wasn't near many people. Conveniently enough, Glenn wanted a table where he could have a conversation without disruptions.

"Takin' long," Daryl muttered, cringing at the man on stage.

"She texted me. They're almost here," Glenn replied. He slid his phone back in his pocket and grimaced at the man on stage. "It's too bad he's friends with the owner of this joint. Ugh."

"Somebody needs to shut his mouth. Goddamn. Wish I was deaf."

"You're almost there, old man."

Daryl flipped him off with his left hand, reading the menu.

"Hey!"

Maggie Greene appeared in all her glory. Daryl had to give Glenn props. The girl was fine, all legs, curves, and striking green eyes.

Glenn stood up and hugged her. Once they let go, he kissed her cheek and took out her chair, all chivalrous. Maggie giggled and humored him by taking a seat

Daryl rolled his eyes at the cheesy display Glenn was putting on.

"Maggie, this is Daryl," Glenn introduced. "He's a bit shy."

The older man glared at his friend before nodding once at her.

At the brief nod and lack of verbality, Maggie seemed to sense that he wasn't one for traditional introductions. She didn't offer to shake his hand and instead said, "Pleasure to meet you, Daryl. Glenn speaks so highly of you."

He raised an eyebrow at the Asian. "That so?" he said, smirking. "Well, don't hold back now, boy."

Glenn ignored him. "Where's your sister?" he asked her.

"Looking for parking," Maggie replied quickly. "She'll be here. Anyways, what's for dinner?"

"Just waiting for you ladies. When Beth comes, we'll order."

"The meat here ain't that tender," Daryl warned.

"That's all right. I was just gonna order some steak fries and burgers. Beth and I'll share. She don't eat much lately."

Her tone held something that alerted Daryl of the brand of uncomfortable. He sighed and began bracing himself. God, he wished for a light right about now.

The chair screeched backwards. Glenn stood up and waved his arm once.

"Beth! Over here!"

Daryl looked up and saw a petite blonde heading their way. She didn't look much like her older sister — mainly the striking blue eyes and the legs. She was much shorter than her sister, though. Her beauty wasn't as striking as Maggie's; it was softer, subtler. She was cute.

And young.

"Sorry," she said, her southern accent delicate. "The bouncer didn't wanna let me in even when I showed him my ID."

"How'd you get in, then?" Glenn wondered.

"I had to show my driver's license, student ID, and passport." She took a seat next to her sister, dropping her tote bag on the ground.

_Who the hell carries 'round their passport?_ he thought. His blue eyes observed the girl before him even more and saw the red band hiding underneath her sleeve.

Daryl didn't realize he was staring at her until her blue eyes startled him.

Maggie nudged her. "Introduce yourself."

Beth sighed and seemed hesitant. She plastered on a fake smile at the men before her.

"Nice to meet you, Glenn, and, um — "

"Daryl," he offered gruffly.

"Daryl. Please excuse my lateness. I _desperately_ hope I didn't inconvenience y'all."

_Was this chick being sarcastic or what?_

Maggie seemed to sense this because she had a slight scowl on her face.

Glenn didn't notice or chose not to. "It's cool. We're just about to order anyways. Maggie said you guys will just share?" he clarified.

"No. I'm not eating," Beth stated curtly.

"Are you sure? You're not hungry?"

"I don't want to eat."

Daryl saw Maggie's right hand curl slowly into a fist. She faced her sister. "At least eat some of my fries, Beth."

"I wouldn't want you to not eat, Beth," Glenn said. "Besides, I'm paying, so you can have whatever you like."

At that, Beth bit her lip. "Beer?" she asked quietly.

"You're underage, Beth," Maggie snapped. "Jesus Christ, just eat one damn fry!"

Daryl shook his head, tried his best to ignore the mess happening in front of him, and focused his attention intently on the menu before him.

He was right; she was young. She was probably a little over eighteen. That explained why she was wearing the red band. _"Y'all could enter but y'all can't drink!"_ was what the red band basically screamed out.

The blonde faced her older sister angrily. "Maggie, he said 'whatever I want.' I'm only being polite," she said quite snarkily.

Whenever he and Merle would argue, it would be physical and they'd destroy their surroundings until they were heaving. Most of the time Daryl would do something stupid and they'd end up cracking up and forgetting whatever they argued about. It didn't matter if the argument was heavy or not; they ended up reconciling.

Unfortunately, Dixons weren't ones to express their emotions. It was unhealthy, not discussing what they argued about afterwards. Daryl hated solving whatever problems they argued about. It was too much of a hassle, and it made him uncomfortable. As if Merle would have wanted to anyway.

The waiter came. "You guys ready to order?" he asked.

Glenn said, "Yeah! I'll have the sirloin steak, medium-rare, a side of fish sticks, uhhh, potato salad, and, um, yeah, that's it." He closed his menu.

Daryl smirked. "What, no rice?"

His friend scowled at him. "Shut up, man. That's racist."

"Pfft, okay. I'll have your T-bone steak and mashed potatoes."

Glenn regarded the Greene sisters. "Ladies?"

Maggie pursed her lips. "I'll just have a double cheeseburger with a side of steak fries," she ordered. "Beth?"

Beth was busy fiddling with the napkin holder. "Steak fries," she muttered.

The waiter leaned forward. "I'm sorry?"

Maggie sighed. "Steak fries, sorry."

"Sorry, on second thought, I'll have a side of rice," Glenn announced reluctantly. At the sight of Daryl's broadened smirk, he rolled his eyes.

The waiter wrote down their orders on his notepad and listed them down for clarification. After that, he asked, "Drinks? Happy hour's still goin' on."

Daryl noticed Beth smile and sit up straighter. "Is that so? Well, I'll have your, um, Peach Schnapps," she said happily, reading the menu.

He snorted. _Can tell this girl doesn't know how to drink_, he thought.

Beth seemed to hear that and glowered at him. The expression didn't phase him. She looked more like a kitten.

"Aren't you underage?" the waiter clarified nervously.

"We'll just have three beers and iced tea for the young one. Thank you!" Maggie said. Once the waiter left with their menus, she snapped at her sister, "What the hell, Beth? Are you trying to get kicked out?"

The younger Greene resumed playing with the napkin holder, slouching. "Yup."

"I'm gonna use the restroom. You better not irritate Glenn and Daryl. You're the child here. You're damn lucky I even brought you here. _Don't_ embarrass me, I swear to God, Beth." With another pointed glare, Maggie went for the restrooms.

Beth grabbed the napkin holder and stared at it. Her grip was tight, knuckles white.

It was Daryl's first time being up close and personal with a normal sibling altercation. Granted, it was still stifling for him, but at least he didn't have to prevent any catfights or whatever females did when they fought. He could feel the tension and anger rolling off in waves off the sisters, though. Daryl readied himself for a potential outburst from one of the two. Judging from Maggie's increasing amounts of snappish replies, he bet it was her. Beth looked like she didn't give a damn about the world.

But then …

_"Young one."_

_"You're the child here."_

Daryl himself would be pissed off if someone referred to him as a child. Although he didn't know her, he considered Beth a young woman, her being most likely eighteen and all. To be referred to as a child was insulting and he wouldn't be surprised if underneath all that indifference and bitchiness she was hurt by her sister's words.

"Are you all right, Beth?" Glenn asked worriedly.

She didn't answer for a while there. Daryl thought she was ignoring him until she gave him a tiny, tired smile and answered quietly, "I'll be fine. Thanks for inviting me, Glenn. You really didn't have to."

"Hey, I wanted to. I wanted to meet you." He gave her a reassuring smile.

Beth must be going through something serious for her to have this sort of attitude. He could see through her smile and eyes that she was struggling and was slowly getting exhausted. He knew that look. He had that look before. This was the type of look that was dangerous, something that needed to be dealt with.

"To be honest, I didn't want to go," Beth spoke, not meeting anyone's eyes.

Daryl couldn't help himself. "Then why did ya go?" he asked gruffly.

For some reason, that question brought her gaze towards him. It sparked another burst of irritation and something else in her eyes. Daryl felt a satisfaction in having that capability to provoke her.

Before he could find out what Beth's retort might be, Maggie returned, saying, "'Cause then she'd have nothing to eat and she promised me. Isn't that right?" Her tone held mock.

Beth gave her a sarcastic smile.

Daryl had to snort at that too.

Maggie and Glenn conversed with each other while Beth and Daryl remaining quiet. Beth had more of the unnerving silence while Daryl had the content silence. From time to time, he couldn't help but glance at her to see what she was going to do, but she was only staring at the music poster near the bar.

The food came, and everyone, minus Beth, immediately devoured their food. Beth only nibbled on some fries and played around with it, earning another scowl from her sister.

_If Maggie was so pissed at her sister, promises be damned then. Beth didn't have to go._ Daryl shook his head at that thought. Why was he suddenly taking the blonde's side?

The microphone then screeched, capturing everyone's attention.

"We have some luck here, y'all! Before this lovely lady volunteered, we had no performers to entertain all y'all. But now, let's welcome to the stage Beth Greene!" one of the bartenders announced in the microphone.

Beth stopped playing around with the fries on her plate. She immediately whipped her head towards her sister, eyes flaring.

Daryl knew shit was about to go down between the sisters.

"What?" she snapped.

Maggie casually took a swig from her beer bottle. "When I went to the restroom, I overhead 'em freaking out about them running outta performers. You can sing, Beth. You should go up there," she said.

"Yeah, so can _you_. So why don't _you_ go up there and sing, Maggie?"

"Don't feel like it. There's your chance to let it all out, Bethy."

Beth's eyes hardened even more at the nickname. Daryl glanced at Glenn who was unsure on how to alleviate the situation.

The announcer called out again, "Um, Beth Greene?"

Then, Glenn out a nervous chuckle. "Well, if Beth doesn't want to, Maggie, you don't have to force her — ," he began saying.

Beth stood up from her chair abruptly. Wordlessly, she walked away from them and headed towards the stage.

"All right! Once again, y'all — let's all welcome Beth Greene!"

Daryl saw Maggie stuff more fries in her mouth, her green eyes burning holes on the table. He let out a sigh and wished for this night to be over already. He shouldn't have succumbed to Glenn's pleas.

"Hi," Beth said in the mic, soft voice echoing in the pub. "I'm Beth, and I'll be singing a song that is not special to somebody's heart."

_The hell does that mean?_ Daryl thought, sensing something bad.

_"Words spoken, my heart open. No, I never had butterflies like that,"_ Beth sang. Her voice was strong, and Daryl felt goosebumps travel up his arms. She was pretty damn good. However, he saw that she was looking straight ahead blankly.

"Oh shit," Glenn whispered.

Daryl looked at his friend who was nervously looking at Maggie. Curiously, Daryl turned his attention toward the older Greene and saw it. Maggie's hands were curled into fists. Her jaw was taut, and he saw fire swirling in her green eyes.

Beth was still singing. Daryl could see a tiny smirk forming on her face. _"We danced in the moon glow, your hands move slow … "_

Abruptly, Maggie's chair screeched as she pushed it back. She turned to face her sister. Beth's eyes traveled to her sister's, a defiant look burning in her eyes.

"What the hell is goin' on, Glenn?" Daryl asked lowly.

"Maggie hates that song. She told me one of her exes sang it to her in front of everybody and it embarrassed her. She hates the guy so much if she saw him she might scream. They had a pretty bad relationship. For Beth to sing it … it really shows the tension between these two. It's intense," Glenn said, worried eyes directed at his girlfriend.

Daryl leaned back against his chair and downed his beer. He didn't know if he could still take this anymore. He kept his ears open because she really was a good singer despite her true intentions of singing the song.

As soon as Beth finished singing, she received a loud applause. She walked back to their table and sat down as if she didn't sing that song to spite her sister.

"You're getting a cab home," Maggie snapped. "I am not riding home with you."

Beth shrugged. "Fine by me."

Glenn let out a slight nervous chuckle. "Aw, Maggie. You don't need to do that. I can drop you home and Beth can take the car — ," he began suggesting.

But Maggie cut him off, "No! I need the truck tomorrow. I'm going to pack my stuff and move in with you."

Glenn was taken aback by that. "Oh. Okay."

"Oh, so what? I get the farmhouse to myself? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying, Beth. I can't stand your attitude anymore. Ever since Daddy died, you've been acting like such a childish _bitch_! I — I can't take it anymore! Your way of copin' is worse than when Annette died. You wanna be treated like an adult? Then by all means, have the farmhouse to yourself and save up for a car. I'm done with you," Maggie ended with a solemn tone. She stood up from her chair and walked away.

Glenn sighed. "Oh, Maggie — damn it, Maggie, wait!" he called out, going after her.

_Aw, hell nah. That Korean better not have left me with the bill_, Daryl thought bitterly. He glanced at Beth who was staring at the table with angry tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

He began nibbling on his bottom lip, unsure on what to do. Should he comfort her?

"I'll pay for it," she said emotionlessly. She stood up and went over to the cashier.

After a good few seconds, Daryl let out a curse and followed after her. She was rifling through her duffle bag when he slammed two twenties on the counter, startling the cashier.

"No need," he said gruffly.

Beth shook her head. "Look, you don't need to do this," she started.

"Too bad. I did it already. Keep the change," he told the cashier. He nodded at the cashier who began inputting the amount on the computer. Without a word, he left her.

Should he have left her? He barely knew her, so he wasn't obligated to do anything for her. But then again, she was a young woman who had no ride home and it was a quarter to midnight. He wasn't a dickhead. He couldn't leave her. The least he could do was help her find one.

He went to come back for her when she exited the pub.

"Ya got money for a ride?" Daryl asked.

She nodded and waited at the curb.

A minute passed.

"Why you just standin' there?"

She shot back instantly, "Why are _you_ just standin' there? Aren't you gonna go home already?"

"I am."

"So … what? You waitin' for a cab too?"

He shifted on his feet. "Barely any cabs arrive 'round here."

She stared at him, waiting for him to answer her question.

"I can drive you home," he offered hesitantly.

Beth's eyebrows furrowed, a crinkle forming between them. "Really?" she asked skeptically. "You don't even know me. I mean, I acted like a bitch earlier. Thought that might've put you off or somethin'. And frankly, you kind of annoy me."

He shrugged. "Bitch or not, ain't gonna let a young woman like you alone at night."

She was quiet for a moment. Did he say something wrong? He was just being nice.

"Yeah," she then said quietly. "Yeah, sure. Thank you."

Daryl was surprised by that. Maybe it was because she actually agreed to ride with him, a man she didn't know that looked like a criminal and was twenty years or so above her. Or maybe it was the sincerity in her thanks.

Not many people were sincere. At least toward him.

Quietly, the pair walked over to his truck. Self-consciousness creeped its way inside him at the sight of his dilapidated-looking vehicle. Beth didn't say anything and waited for him to open the door since the passenger's side only opened inside. Daryl forgot that she was a petite girl when she placed her bag on the seat and grabbed ahold of the window to heft herself in the truck. It wasn't a monster truck, granted, but it was quite the height for her.

He started the car and began driving.

Beth took off the jean jacket she was wearing roughly and shoved it on the mat of his truck. She pushed it to the side of the door with her boot. After that brief tirade, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window.

Daryl cleared his throat. "So, where to?" he questioned.

She let out a deep breath. "I'll tell you when to turn," she answered, still staring out the window.

He was fine with the silence. It was suffocating and uncomfortable, but he coped well with them. At least he didn't have to acknowledge her anymore and make a fool of himself again. He was never smooth with women — or people, in general.

"The jacket's Maggie's," Beth murmured. Luckily the windows weren't down mid-way and his radio wasn't working otherwise he wouldn't have heard her.

He grunted at that. What the hell was he supposed to say? _"Sorry it was your sister's"_?

"You didn't have to drop me home, y'know."

"You're in my truck already, so deal with it."

He felt her gaze on the side of his head, burning into it. Did intense eyes run in the Greene family or what? He resisted the urge to glance toward her.

"Left," she said.

He obliged quietly.

_She's damn lucky my Triumph's a work in progress_, Daryl thought. _'Else her dress'll be flyin' everywhere and she'd be flashin' people._

At the corner of his eyes, he spotted her thighs exposed by the dress that somehow rode up. He cursed himself and focused on the road. _Nasty old fart, aren't ya, Dixon?_

They were soon away from the roads and urban surroundings. The roads turned into dirt pathways, and trees and wooden fences replaced the buildings and chained-link fences. Daryl's ears embraced the sounds and the aroma of nature. It reminded him of his solace: the woods.

Beth sat up straight. "Follow the pathway; you'll see a large farmhouse."

Daryl welcomed this area happily. He missed living in an area away from the hustle and bustle of the city. He lived in a dingy apartment that had pubs and shady, ironically named mom-and-pop stores within walking distances. He wished he had enough money to purchase a cabin in the woods and live there until the day he dies.

He stopped until he was in front of the porch of her house. Maggie was going to leave this enormous house, plantation, and barn to her little sister? All by her lonesome? Beth couldn't manage this property by herself.

Beth nodded once at him and gave him a tired smile. "Thanks for the ride, Daryl. It was nice meeting you," she said.

He nodded back. "Good luck," was all he could manage. He really hoped that this girl got whatever situation she had figured out soon. She didn't deserve having this huge responsibility shoved onto her.

Daryl didn't notice he was waiting for her to enter her house until the porch lights turned off. He shook his head and went back down the pathway.

He barely knew her. He shouldn't think so hard about her. She had her own problems. Everyone did. The world will keep on turning without them.

As he drove, Daryl remembered Maggie mentioning the death of their father and cursed under his breath. He didn't say condolences. It must have been pretty recent, too. He felt like an asshole, but then again that wasn't a surprise.

At the stoplight, Daryl reached over the emergency brake. He must have some stray cigarettes in his glove compartment. He found three and inserted one in his mouth. He grabbed the matchbox in the compartment and lit it up. Once the smoke entered his lungs, the stress he felt from tonight's events floated away.

He noticed the jean jacket Beth handled roughly on the floor and stared at it, cigarette hanging off his mouth precariously.

He sighed. He knew he was going to have to bring that damn jacket back.

* * *

—_ i'm asian, and i can't live without rice too, lol. (even noodles)._

_this is my first bethyl and walking dead fic. i hope you guys enjoy. the fic'll basically be about beth and daryl learning to cope with their respective struggles in life and growing up together. not entirely sure where i'm going with this story, but it's been stuck in my head, so why the hell not? might be short too._

_the song beth sang is "when you were mine" by lady antebellum._

_feedback is nice._


	2. a separate glance

_Hey. I have a problem. You see, I'm gonna have this entire plantation to myself. I have Patricia to call up, but she hasn't been the same since Otis's death. I could easily sell it and gain enough money for an apartment and a car. It's gonna hurt, though. This is the last thing I'm gonna have left of Daddy, of the times when my family was still whole and happy._

_Maggie hates me. I'm kinda glad. I knew she was gonna leave me sooner or later. She has Glenn now, and they love each other. So why don't I just allow her to leave already and get it over with, right?_

_She just doesn't understand why I —_

Beth looked up from her bed when Glenn rapped on her bedroom door. She would've left the door closed, but the heatwave was burning her and the open windows weren't enough.

"Maggie's looking for her jean jacket, the one you wore last night," he told her.

Without a word, she closed her journal and trudged over her closet. Once she opened it, she instantly remembered what she did to the jacket.

"I left it in Daryl's truck," she told him.

Glenn furrowed his eyebrows. "How'd it get in there?"

"He drove me home."

His eyes widened in shock. "Seriously? You didn't, like, put a gun to his head and demanded him to take you home?"

She shook her head no.

At first impression, Daryl was a callous, tense man that looked like he was ready to wreak havoc when provoked. Her daddy taught her not to judge a person if you didn't know them, but he practically laughed at her — in his own way — last night. Shockingly, he offered her a ride and seemed like a nice guy with a rough exterior.

Yes, he had a rough exterior, but he was handsome. He had the kind of appearance that didn't awe you at first glance. Beth noticed that when she looked at him from time to time he grew handsomer and handsomer. She also didn't realize she had a preference for shoulders and arms until she saw his.

Glenn narrowed his eyes, staring out the window. "That's … interesting," he murmured. "Um, anyways, did you want me to call him?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind," Beth said. "Is Maggie almost done?"

He nodded. "She just needs to organize her belongings in her truck. I got the rest of her stuff in my car." He paused as he took out his phone. "You need help with anything?"

"No. I'm fine. Just … just take care of her, all right?"

Glenn stared at her for a moment and then sighed. "I will," he said determinedly. He waited for Daryl to pick up. "This damn redneck is horrible with cell phones, I swear."

Beth fiddled with her necklace while they both waited.

"Daryl? Hey, yeah, you — wait, you're on your — ?" He headed towards the window. "You're on your way here? Why? Oh, you're returning — okay. You need directions? Ha! Nighttime, my ass. It's left, man. Yeah, okay. O-Okay, see ya."

"So, he's on his way then," Beth stated unnecessarily. She felt flattered. Although she acted like a child with the jacket, he was kind enough to bring it back to her.

Glenn pocketed his phone. "Despite how he looks and seems, Daryl's got a huge heart. Not kidding."

She hummed in response.

Maybe she and Daryl could be friends. After her dad's death, she drifted away from her friends. They always wanted to go out and believed that in doing so it would help her cope. But it didn't. Beth coped by staying indoors, writing in her journal, and listening to music. Since she took a break from school, she managed to get more hours in working at the daycare center. That was how she coped. She didn't want to be surrounded by people. Her routine helped her cope.

It seemed Maggie and Beth's friends didn't understand her way of coping.

_There's nothing wrong in staying indoors and wanting to be alone_, Beth argued mentally. _People have different ways of coping with their feelings. Why is that so damn hard to understand?_

Glenn pointed out the door and said, "I'm gonna check on Maggie."

She nodded and followed him out. She didn't leave her room ever since her sister arrived. Unfortunately, she was getting parched and she remembered the iced tea she made last night.

Once Beth entered the kitchen, she saw Maggie drinking iced tea and offering Glenn some as if she was the one who spent the night making sure the iced tea tasted exactly how Daddy used to make it. And how _dare_ she use her favorite mug?

Before the happy couple could see her, Beth went straight back to her room. Her ears detected the sound of a low rumble getting closer and closer. She walked outside of her house, screen door slamming shut.

It was Daryl. He parked near Glenn's car and shut off the engine to this truck. He got out, wearing a sleeveless vest and holding Maggie's jean jacket with one hand.

It was like he knew she liked his arms.

"You brought it," she stated. _Yeah, state the obvious, Beth._

His eyes weren't looking anywhere at her. He chewed on the left side of his mouth and held it up. "Here," he said. "Thought you'd need it or somethin'."

"I don't. Maggie does. She's inside."

He held it out further to her, waiting for her to take it.

She shook her head. "You give it to her."

The screen door opened and slammed shut again. Glenn went down the porch steps and approached the two. "Hey! Thanks, man. Maggie was looking for that," he said, grabbing the jacket from Daryl. "You busy?"

"Nah. Nothin' new at the scrapyard."

_Scrapyard …_ , Beth wondered. _That must be his occupation, salvagin' car parts._

"Wanna help me transfer some of Maggie's stuff to her truck? My car can't take the excess weight."

"That's why I keep tellin' you, Glenn. Change your damn car. You're startin' to rub off on it." He smirked at his friend and dodged the punch Glenn gave him. He then followed Glenn to Maggie's truck.

Beth watched them leave before heading back inside. She checked the kitchen to see if Maggie was there, but she wasn't. Satisfied, she poured herself a glass of water and drank it.

Daryl seemed like a reserved guy, one that would be uncomfortable if placed in situations such as giving back a jacket to an eighteen-year-old girl that you barely knew. Beth could see that he did, in fact, have a good heart, though. It was enough to be want to be friends with him.

Why did she want to get to know him? She didn't know for sure if she should attempt to, but since he came all the over to her house to return a jacket that didn't belong to her, that action itself established her desire to get to know him.

She placed the glass in the sink. _Maybe he pities me_, she thought before turning on the faucet and washing the glass. _How could he possibly know that jacket's Maggie's favorite?_

Beth looked at the clock and realized it was almost lunchtime. She grabbed a pot and filled it with water from the sink. After that, she took out the meat in the freezer and put it in the pot to thaw.

The screen door slammed. Maggie entered the kitchen, duffle bag hoisted on one shoulder.

"I'm gonna head out now," she said, voice solemn.

Beth nodded once, unsure of what to say.

"You do know that — that I'm just one phone call away, right?" Her eyebrows were furrowed, and the concern was prevalent in her green eyes. No matter what, Maggie would always be in big sister mode. Usually, it'd annoy Beth, but right now, it made her chest tighten.

"I know," Beth said quietly.

Maggie sighed. "Beth, I know you're hurting. I am, too. But you never told me anything, and how am I supposed to — ?" She broke off, shaking her head. "Glenn's waiting."

"Goodbye."

"You can call up on Patricia, you know."

"Goodbye, Maggie."

Without another word, Maggie turned and left, screen door shutting, and then silence.

Beth never truly experienced being alone in her house until now.

—

Until she heard a car start and drive away, Beth didn't know that Glenn and Daryl were outside her house conversating. She assumed Glenn followed after Maggie and Daryl left already.

She placed her book on the coffee table and headed outside. She welcomed the cool wind. Fortunately the heatwave simmered a bit.

Daryl was getting ready to get inside his truck when she yelled, "Hey!"

Stopping, Daryl whipped his head her direction. She stood at her porch and waited for him. He seemed to get the signal and walked rather reluctantly to her. She tried not to be affronted by that.

Daryl offered her a ride and returned Maggie's jacket out of the goodness of his heart — or perhaps he did pity her. He was an older man, too. Why in hell did Beth think he would even consider her as someone he could be friends with? She was most likely a kid in his eyes.

But it didn't hurt to try. It didn't hurt to try and step out of the shell she created after her daddy's death. She could connect with her friends and maybe even Jimmy. They had their own little world, though, and Beth wanted to welcome something new in her life.

"Yeah?" Daryl said once he was near. He was at the foot of the porch steps. His expression was uncomfortable and tense.

"You want some iced tea? It's freshly made," Beth offered.

"'S all right."

"I insist. The heatwave's unbearable, and Lord knows your windows aren't enough to cool you down during the drive back. Just one drink." She tried to not sound desperate.

She saw his eyes glance up at her briefly. She couldn't see the pity in it, but once he sighed and nodded, she felt uneasy for a moment.

Beth poured iced tea in two glasses. Daryl leaned against the counter across her and looked around, eyes landing on the pictures on the refrigerator. She handed him a glass, sipping from her own.

Internally, she was panicking. She hoped he wouldn't ask about Mama and Shawn.

"What's your plan now?" Daryl asked.

Beth sighed inaudibly, partly in relief and partly in reluctance. She didn't even know where to start. "I might sell this area," she replied.

"A damn waste. Ya got good terrain, quiet surroundings." He was already finished with his drink but was still holding the glass. Beth took that as a good sign. He must not be in a hurry to leave.

She nodded. "Yeah, but I don't have the manpower or skills to handle this area. I could hire people, but I can barely pay for the bills. We've also got horses in the stable … " At that last statement, Beth felt like crying. She was going to have to leave Nervous Nelly.

Daryl was eyeing her carefully. "If you sell the place, you'd get a load of money. You could buy yourself a nice home suited for you and a car."

She turned the glass around on the counter. "Been lookin' at apartments near the college I'm attendin'," she said. But she was still thinking about the horses. She was still thinking about the flower patches. She was still thinking about that lake her, Maggie, and Shawn used to sneak off to. She was still thinking about going out on the field with a picnic blanket underneath, watching the stars with Maggie. She was still thinking about listening to her Daddy preach to her and drinking iced tea every Sunday morning on the porch.

_"We don't get to be upset"_ was what she used to tell Maggie when she'd come in her room crying after Mama and Shawn's death. They had to take care of Daddy. There was no time to grieve for themselves. They had each other, and they had to make sure Daddy wasn't going to spiral out of control.

Maggie wasn't here anymore, though. She left. Beth was all by her lonesome. She was the one that had to deal with the empty farmhouse, so she had a right to be upset.

"Guess you got to finish your job now, Beth," Daryl said quietly, blue eyes locking with hers briefly.

_"We don't get to be upset, Maggie. We've all got jobs to do. We have to move on forward."_

Daddy's advice circled in her mind continuously as she watched Daryl leave her home. She did have a job — job_s_ — to do. She had to finish them. Hopefully she had coped enough to get on with what she had to do.

Without a doubt, she could finish her jobs. Moving on, though? That was something she might have trouble doing.

—

A week later, Beth met up with a real estate agent with the help of Patricia. He said that they were able to sell the land and farmhouse since there were a good amount of potential buyers. Some buyers were within the area, and some were from different states. The farmhouse had a bit of history too, so that added onto its reputation.

Since the land was still under Beth's name, a certain percentage would go to her account. Unless she handed the deed to the house, she would have nothing to do with it.

She wasn't ready to hand it over. That meant she was officially letting go of her home.

"You all right, honey?" Patricia asked from across the booth.

Beth managed a small smile before continuing to eat her lunch. While she chewed, her blue eyes flitted over to the window next to their booth.

She stopped chewing momentarily before swallowing.

Daryl was talking to two men. From the looks of it, their car broke down since the three of them were huddled around the engine which had smoke wafting off it. Daryl then bent over the engine and began doing something to it.

Beth leaned forward to catch a better look. She saw Patricia giving her a confused look before checking out what she was looking at.

"What're you looking at?"

"Just … admiring the scenery." Beth was for once glad for the heatwave. She could never get enough of those arms.

Patricia smiled slyly. It was the first time such an expression appeared on her face ever since Otis's passing. "The scenery. Of course."

Luckily, she didn't press onto the matter. Once Patricia resumed eating, Beth looked back at her scenery. As far as Beth can tell, Daryl was checking the oil in the engine. He said something to the men, and they both nodded. Daryl pointed out north. The two men thanked Daryl and started walking toward the direction he pointed at.

A smile formed on her face.

She continued watching him. He leaned against his truck. Beth noticed his eyebrows were furrowed and that he was watching the two men. He looked down on the ground, concentrating hard. Briefly, he closed his eyes.

It was as if the two men reminded him of something. Did he have two friends that looked like them before? She wondered what got him looking like that.

Beth wondered about loneliness. She wondered if he was feeling loneliness like she was right now. He couldn't, though. He had Glenn. But then again, Glenn had Maggie. Beth had Patricia, but she was always off in her little world. Patricia actually vied for some alone time.

Underneath her lashes, Beth glanced at Patricia. Predictably, Patricia was staring at her wedding ring, food abandoned.

Beth chewed for a bit but had trouble swallowing. She sighed lowly.

"Maggie talked to me," Patricia announced.

_Great._ "What'd she say about me?"

"She's worried about you. She asked about the farm and what your plans are for it. Told her what we did today, and she has no complaints."

Beth didn't say anything.

"Beth … sweetheart, you don't have to be lonely." The concern was leaking in her tone.

_You say it like I have a choice, Patricia,_ she refused to say aloud.

"I found an apartment, rent's reasonable, and it's near school," Beth informed her. "I'll give you the address once I get settled in."

Patricia sighed. "I'll help you move in."

"No need. I got it."

"Beth — "

"Hey, Patricia. Remember that little cottage you and Otis purchased? You said that the area's got nice plots for gardenin'. You should take advantage of that area. You deserve it especially after — after Otis's passing." Patricia's face crumpled a little, but Beth continued, "I remember you told that me that your bouquet at your wedding was carnations and lilies. You should plant 'em in memory of him."

Beth cursed inwardly when she saw Patricia tear up and sob quietly. She only wanted to ease Patricia's worries. Beth knew she was lonely and hopefully moving into that cottage could give her a peace of mind and serve as some sort of acceptance over Otis's death.

"Thank you for reminding me, Beth," she said, tears streaming but smiling. "I've always admired how you were able to get through to people and, y'know, just wake them up."

"Just like my daddy always said, 'We've all got jobs to do.'" Beth grasped her hand with both of hers. Her blue eyes shot straight through hers with conviction. "This is your job now — to relax and focus on yourself. "

While Patricia paid at the cashier, Beth looked out the window again. She saw that two men's car was gone and Daryl's arms were propped over the driver's door of his truck. He was smoking.

Oddly enough, he seemed to sense her stare and looked at her. A blush formed on her cheeks, but she didn't look away.

She smiled and waved.

He furrowed his eyebrows again but nodded at her.

* * *

— thanks for waiting, guys.

sorry it might to start off slow. i just wanna get you guys settled in with the story.

i really appreciate the positive feedback, too. means so much. :)

more feedback is appreciated. hope you guys smiled today.


	3. rising underneath the surface

"It ain't gonna work anymore."

_"Even if I cleaned it?"_

"No."

_"Even if I kept on tightenin' the screws?"_

"Damn it, no! You can't reuse the same damn tire 'cause there's holes in it, and it isn't as sturdy as it was from the beginning. I ain't no mechanic," Daryl finally snapped. He didn't bother hanging up and threw his outdated phone on the passenger seat.

It never failed. Every time a person came to the scrapyard, they always assumed a scrapyard equaled a mechanic shop. Now Daryl could take apart a car and put it back together easy, but it didn't mean that was what he did for a living. It didn't mean he was going to serve to everyone's needs when it came to their vehicles.

_Come to the scrapyard if you have shit to scrap. Is that so damn hard to follow?_ he thought angrily.

While Daryl waited at the stoplight, he realized he forgot to ask the person if he wanted his car back. The guy was pretty vague about what he wanted to do with, and Daryl didn't want to be responsible for anything.

He reached over the emergency brake and grabbed his phone. It was dead.

"Shit," he murmured. _I always forget to charge this thing._

Daryl wanted to get this situation handled now. When the stoplight turned green, he drove forward. His blue eyes searched around for a gas station or a convenience store, but he was at a residential area.

Then, he saw a daycare center coming up. He let out a tsk and shook his head. The daycare center was coming up closer, and he relented. He didn't particularly enjoy talking to people, but he didn't see himself coming up to someone's home and asking to borrow their phone without anyone calling the cops on him.

Getting out of his truck, Daryl reluctantly walked over to the center. He opened the door and cringed internally once he heard the sound that signaled someone entered the door. It sounded like a nursery rhyme to him.

Someone familiar was manning the front desk. As soon as he got closer, the woman looked up and a smile spread on her face.

"Daryl Dixon," Carol greeted. She stood up from her chair. "What brings you here? You got a kid?"

Daryl rolled his eyes but smiled slightly at her. Carol always teased him goodnaturedly, and she was good company.

"I didn't know you worked here," he told her, arms resting on the counter.

"Needed a change of scene from the clinic. I'm good with children." The look on her face reminded him briefly of the time when Sophia went missing and was found dead in the river from drowning.

He stared at her for a while, unsure of what to say. The topic was sensitive towards him as well.

"Hey Carol, do you know where Judith's pacifier — ?" Beth asked as she came in, holding a baby in her arms. Her eyes widened once she saw him. "Oh. Hi Daryl."

That girl never failed to make him uncomfortable. It was her eyes; they were so intense, and she always looked at you through the eyes.

"Hey," was all he said before turning to Carol. "Can I borrow your phone?"

Carol looked between the two, a smile soft at her lips. She had a curious look but didn't ask any questions. She nodded at him. "Yeah," she answered. "Just press 9."

He grabbed the cordless phone from his friend, ignoring the curious look and the blue eyes targeted on him. He turned away from them and did his business.

"Her pacifier is in her bag. I know it was on the sink the last time you placed it, but I did you a favor and washed it and put it back in there, honey," he heard Carol say to Beth.

"Oh, all right. Thank you, Carol," Beth said with that sincere tone of hers. "I just needed to know once it's time for her nap. Right, Judy?"

The baby, in turn, babbled something incoherent. Unknowingly, a smile hinted at his lips while he waited for the guy to answer.

Once he realized the guy was never going to answer his phone, or Daryl got the number wrong, he handed the phone back to Carol. Beth was still there, playing with the baby with a stuffed animal.

"See you 'round, Carol," he said, nodding at her. Without looking at Beth, he went out.

Before he exited, he heard Beth say softly, "Bye, Daryl."

He couldn't bring himself to ignore her. So, he turned his head back and nodded at her.

Beth was eighteen-years-old. He was far older than her. He was content with his life, working at the scrapyard, drinking with Glenn at whoever's house, and going out to the woods during hunting season. He didn't want to mess that up. To put simply, he didn't want another person in his life. He was fine with Glenn. He was fine with Carol. That was it.

He was being a jackass, though. He knew she needed a friend after what happened with her and Maggie. She also had to sell the farmhouse and the land. But Daryl saw Beth with another woman, who must be her mother since she saw a picture of her with a man on her refrigerator. She wasn't alone. She could handle her problems.

_She's cute, though, Darylina_, Merle's voice floated in his head. _Jailbait but damn, she got them legs —_

Daryl slammed his truck door shut once he got in. It had been months since he heard his older brother's voice. He only ever heard his voice when he was troubled or felt anything else negative, but lately? He heard squat.

_Beth's just a girl with her own issues. Ain't that big of a problem. Get away, Merle_, he growled internally.

_Whatever, baby brother. You probably interested in her what with you thinkin' 'bout her blue eyes. You into that stuff, huh? That's what gots you troubled. You interested in her._

"Fuck you, Merle," Daryl muttered. "You ain't here anymore."

Merle chuckled in his mind. _I'm always here, Daryl. Always._

* * *

Daryl was right. This girl wasn't alone. She had people beside her every step of the way. She should not have any more worries. She had Glenn helping her out with moving in for goodness sake.

Heaving up another box, Daryl handed it to Glenn who took it from him and headed inside the one-story house.

_Damn, it's hot_, he thought. He wiped his brow with his do-rag from the back of his pocket.

Daryl was only helping from further coaxing from his annoying friend.

_"Aw, Daryl. Beth needs help. Your gooey heart wouldn't dare leave the poor girl alone."_

Beth came out, speed quick. Without his help, she grabbed a box — on the side it said "delicates and jackets"; (he immediately averted his eyes away from the words) — and had trouble lifting it.

"Whoa, slow down there, girl," he said, placing his hands underneath. His hands felt another pair of hands on the back of his, and so he moved his until their fingertips were only touching. "I got this."

She looked up at him, eyes squinting from the boiling sun. "You want to switch shifts? I can pass you guys the boxes," she offered.

"What, no — Beth, it's damn hot as a desert out here."

She shrugged once. "Yeah, but you've been out here ever since you and Glenn arrived to help."

"'S fine. Go on, inside."

"Daryl — "

"Damn it, girl!" He didn't know if it was because of the heat or people were just extra irritating today. "I already told ya. I got this. Do your job, I'll do mine."

Daryl didn't want to see her expression, so he roughly took the box from her and went inside the house.

As soon as he entered the house, he took a quick glance around his surroundings. The kitchen was at the left, kitchen island near the door. There was an entrance to the backyard next to the refrigerator. At the right was a large expanse, most likely the living room. Two window panes lit up the area. Down the hall was probably her bedroom and the bathroom.

Glenn came out from behind the boxes, sweating profusely. "For just one girl, she's got a lot of stuff, huh?" he remarked. "Needed the workout anyway."

"Yeah, been a long time comin' for ya." Daryl smirked. "Where do I put this?"

Glenn pointed at the boxes that said "shirts and trousers" and "blankets and comforters". "Next to these boxes. Just put them — wait, why're you here? Where's Beth?"

He placed the box down. "Outside. She was strugglin' with this box. Told 'er I got this."

Beth entered the house and went inside the kitchen. "Y'all want some drinks? We should take a break," she suggested.

Daryl rubbed the nape of his neck. "You should get this finished first."

"I know." She got out a large pitcher of water. "But bein' dehydrated or gettin' a heat stroke isn't gonna help us some, right?"

Glenn gladly helped himself with some water, but Daryl wouldn't budge.

"Well, why don't y'all have your break — I'll finish up for you." He went to head out.

Beth's eyebrows furrowed. "We have time, Daryl. Just one glass of water."

Daryl let out a breath, exasperated. "I heard you how many times already, girl."

Her blue eyes flashed at him. "What the hell's your problem?" she snapped.

It was most likely the heat. That was why he was acting like this. It was getting to him, and Beth wasn't making it any better. They were all almost done with her damn boxes, so they might as well finish up already.

So, he slammed his hands on the island. The action startled her. He leaned forward, face sneering.

"I don't got no damn problem," he snapped back. As soon as he said that, he mentally cringed. It sounded ridiculous. _What the hell am I so pissed off about?_

"You know, you don't even have to be here. Glenn and I are fine without you. Jesus!" Beth slammed her glass on the island and stalked off into her room.

Daryl groaned to himself and wiped a hand down his face. He bent down, hands still on the counter, and hung his head.

Glenn continued drinking. "Damn," he commented. "What's got you all riled up?"

"Got no fuckin' clue."

"Sure."

_I bet even the Chinese knows you're actin' like this 'cause of that girl, _Merle teased._ You can't stand bein' in the same room with someone ya don't know well. 'Specially since you think she purdy. Whipped already, eh, little brother?_

Sweat dripped down his the nape of his neck and temples. He felt his shirt clinging to his skin everywhere. His tongue was parched. He could practically feel the heat taunting him through the open front door.

It was hard to handle the heat with Merle's voice in his mind. It was hard to not be a dick around a girl that was being nice to him.

Daryl eyed the pitcher of water. He could feel Glenn looking at him, readying himself in case an explosion might occur.

He whipped his head away from the water and headed for the door. He could hear Glenn calling him and asking where he was going, but he didn't answer. He went straight for his truck, started it, and drove away.

Something was wrong. He wasn't supposed to be hearing his brother's voice anymore. He thought he had blocked it out already. Spending a few months in the woods by himself was a sure way of getting away from Merle. It worked.

_But what changed?_

A pair of blue eyes staring angrily at him appeared in his mind.

Daryl scowled as he drove. _Damn girl,_ he thought irritably. _Why the hell you gettin' to me?_

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Leaving one hand on the wheel, he fished his phone out and saw that Glenn texted him. He only ever texted Daryl, since he didn't use text messaging that much (calling was faster and more productive), when he knew he was angry or didn't feel like talking to anybody.

He glanced at the screen. _I know you're mad and all which I don't understand but remember Beth's shitty sink? Yeah get your ass here and fix it cuz I can't_, Glenn texted.

Daryl sighed. He forgot he was supposed to do that.

Unfortunately for Glenn and Beth, he was already near his apartment building. He made a right and pulled in the parking lot. He shut off his engine and sat in the seat for a while.

He didn't know if it was because his mood cooled or the heatwave simmered, but he wasn't as angry as before. In fact, he started feeling embarrassed of himself.

It was like Beth Greene was going to be inevitable in his life. Her appearances should be a coincidence since Glenn was dating her older sister. He also knew that Beth wanted to talk to him, get to know him. It was obvious from her eyes — _or were her eyes always that damn intense_?

Daryl was an observant man. He could see all the miniscule details such as how he didn't live that far from Beth, the sincerity in her voice, how her eyes look straight through his and the look it portrayed (intrigue and, yet again, sincerity); her will to move on from whatever tribulation she had been through; and —

God, he was probably being conceited. Perhaps Beth was like that with everyone she interacted with.

Yes, he was observant, but sometimes, there were details he just couldn't understand.

Like Beth Greene. Like Merle's voice.

They weren't details, though. They were made up of details compiled into two main aspects of Daryl's troubles.

It was difficult being observant. There were things that one just preferred to ignore or forget — such as how, coincidentally, Merle's voice began once Beth Greene wanted to enter his life.

And he wasn't being conceited about that. He could see it through her eyes: big, blue, intense, and sincere. Always so damn sincere.

* * *

It was the two in the morning. Daryl had been standing in front of Beth's front door for five minutes. Any minute now her neighbors would notice a shady-looking guy trespassing her property and call the police on him.

He dialed the number.

After many, many rings — _"Why the fuck are you calling at two in the morning?"_ Glenn snapped on the other end, voice raspy with sleep.

"Don't wake Maggie, but I'm outside Beth's house. Can you call her for me?" Daryl asked, sounding like a complete idiot.

_"What are you — why are you — you're at her house at two in the — ugh, hold up. I'll three-way this shit."_ Glenn was more relenting when he was asleep — or drunk, a fact Daryl gladly remembered for life.

He heard quiet and then a number being dialed.

A minute passed.

"What's takin' so long?" Daryl grumbled.

_"Oh, I don't know, Daryl. Maybe it's 'cause it's _two in the fucking morning_?"_ Glenn hissed. _"You're lucky Maggie's knocked out!"_

"Sorry there, sunshi — "

"Glenn?" came a quiet, tired voice.

Without thinking, Daryl said, "I'm here to fix your sink."

_"Wh — Daryl?"_ She sounded more awake. _"Why are you calling me at … at 2:17 in the morning? And with Glenn's phone?"_

Glenn let out a nervous chuckle. _"Yeah, morning, Beth. I'm gonna go now. Bye."_ He hung up.

_"Daryl?"_

"Like I said earlier, I'm here to fix your sink." Daryl shook his head at himself. He honestly sounded so ridiculous. He made the worst decisions when it came to social situations.

He couldn't sleep. The fact that he could hear Merle's voice again rattled him. He took a smoke, but it didn't work. He watched mindless television — didn't work.

He figured he could fix up Beth's sink. If she wanted to wash dishes without worries already, then he should fix it now. Regardless of the time.

He regretted the decision as soon as it flitted through his mind.

The front door opened, showing a pajama-donning Beth Greene. Her cell was held up against her ear, and she was looking up at him blearily and irritably. She put her phone down on the kitchen table.

Daryl heard the dial tone.

"Come in," she said, and then headed inside.

He sighed to himself, grabbed his toolbox, and followed after her, closing the door. He saw a blanket and pillows strewn messily on her couch. She must've slept there.

Beth switched on the kitchen lights and leaned against the counter next to the sink. She gestured to it. "Well? Start."

_Still mad_, he thought. _Right to be. I was an asshole. _Am_ an asshole._ He rolled up his sleeves and began working.

While he was doing his task, he felt uncomfortable the entire time. Beth was still leaning against the sink, watching him. Always with her damn blue eyes. From time to time, she'd offer him a drink and he'd decline to which she'd quietly scoff at.

Daryl screwed the pipe shut once he was done. It should be good as new. He extracted himself from underneath the sink and stood up, wiping his dirty hands on his pants.

"Have at it," he said, gesturing toward the sink with his hand.

Beth turned on the faucet and, without any strange racket, water came out smoothly. She turned it off and faced him.

"Thank you," she said. "Drive home safely. Good night."

Maybe this was it. He made a wise decision. He allowed his asshole trait to interact with Beth to get her away from him. (Oh, who was he kidding? He didn't allow any trait to do any damn thing.) She didn't need to have someone like him in his life, and he didn't need to have another person in his life especially someone like her.

He deposited his tools in his box and then picked it up. Quietly, he assessed the floor. He made a bit of a mess.

"It's fine," Beth told him. "Really, Daryl. Thank you."

Nodding at her, Daryl left her house.

As he drove home, all he could think about were blue eyes and their sincerity.

_Whipped_, Merle chuckled.

"More like fucked," Daryl muttered.

* * *

_— i noticed i did a bit of a foreshadowing there. if you spot it, congrats._

_so! i got back from my trip earlier. it was much needed. sorry for the wait, and thanks for reading!_

_feedback? appreciated. :)_


	4. been intertwined

_Hi. It's been a while again. _

_Daddy's finally getting better. He's starting on the crops again. He's tending to the horses. He's being himself. And I'm glad. I knew he was going to get better because I'm always praying and he's a strong man. This world would be nothing without him. I sure would be nothing without him._

_I always told Maggie that taking care of Daddy is our job. We're his daughters. It only made sense that we took care of him. He's our responsibility. After all these years of him and Mama taking care of us, it's about time we returned the favor._

_Nowadays, I don't know how I feel about Mama and Shawn's deaths. After the funeral, we had to take care of Daddy. He was a mess. We didn't have time to grieve or anything. It was fine, though. Daddy's more important than how I felt at the time._

_I'm gonna keep this short. I just wanted to tell you how great things are going. As long as we keep keep praying and smiling, nothing could go wrong._

* * *

_"Hold me close and hold me fast. This feeling never lasts. This is La Vie En Rose,"_ Beth lulled softly to Judith. The baby's eyelids slowly closed. Sleep was with her.

The daycare center paid her well. When she will get back in school, she'll have enough money for tuition and books. Beth tried not to think about where majority of the money came from, however.

She still had the deed. The current tenants were an a middle-aged couple with kids grown up and with families. They were renting as of right now, but Beth could see how well they were maintaining the land. Last time she checked up on them, they hired some help, horses were tended to, and crops were thriving.

It made her feel uneasy. They were earning the farm. They were taking care of it unlike Beth.

_You are unable to take care of that entire plantation,_ Beth told herself. _Patricia is retired now. Maggie might already be married to Glenn. The farm needs a new family._

Once she heard Judith's soft snores, Beth gingerly placed her inside the crib. Judith was the only infant she and Carol had to take care of.

Sheriff Grimes was a busy man, and he had a fourteen-year-old son, Carl, in school. The mother died after a failed Cesarean. It was a dark time for the Grimes for quite some time. Eventually Rick got out of his state of depression and Carl stopped getting in trouble in school.

As soon as Judith was being cared for in the daycare, she took an immediate liking toward Beth. It mechanically and non-verbally labeled her as the main caretaker.

Even if she didn't get paid to do so, Beth would gladly care for her. She felt a huge amount of affection for her. Judith brought warmth, and Beth needed some of that right now.

Beth exited the room and saw Rick conversing with Carol. She approached him with a smile.

"Afternoon, Sheriff," she greeted. "I just put her to sleep."

Rick smiled gratefully. "Thanks so much, Beth. Sorry for my wrong timin'. Her godmother's here, and she wants to watch her during her visit. Couldn't wait to see her," he explained.

At that, Beth's mood depreciated. "So, how long you havin' her?"

"'Bout two weeks. I just paid for two months because you've been so good to her."

"Oh, Sheriff, you didn't have to."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I did. I know how much she means to you and vice-versa."

Judith meant a lot to Beth. She truly did.

After the Sheriff left — after Beth held a sleeping Judith close tearfully — Carol approached Beth with a sad, warm smile. She gave her a hug to which Beth returned.

It had been a while since she had a hug. Carol's hug was strong and comforting.

"You'll see her again, Beth," Carol murmured after they pulled away. She cupped her face and used her thumbs to wipe at the tears that have yet to fall. "Okay?"

Beth let out a slight laugh and stepped away, wiping more tears away. "I know, I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing."

"Not at all." Carol smiled. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you join me for dinner?"

"That'd be wonderful."

Her smile brightened. It was a nice sight. "You're friends with Daryl, right? He'll be coming as well."

Beth tried to maintain her uplifted expression. _Great_, she thought. _How long has it been since I last saw Daryl? A month? They didn't leave on a bad note, but they also didn't leave on a good note._

_Well, it's not like we're friends. Clearly he doesn't want to. But I couldn't possibly decline because of that grumpy man …_

"Would you like me to bring anything?"

"Just your beautiful self. Your presence alone is enough to balance out with Daryl's sunshine attitude," Carol joked.

Beth remembered her last encounter with Daryl. It wasn't. In fact, it seemed to make him even more uncomfortable and grumpier — as if she was a bad aftertaste.

But then again, he came to her house, albeit at an alarming time, to fix up her sink. It was most likely his way of apologizing. Beth knew he was a man with a few words, and so it must hurt his pride to actually verbalize an apology.

Beth was grateful. Yes, she was still quite pissed at the time, but at least he made up for it somewhat.

However, he didn't want to be friends with her. Beth knew when to stop pestering someone. It was futile with him. Maybe she was too young or not enough.

She shouldn't even be attempting to make friends. Wasn't she supposed to be coping right now? It was her time to heal, time to deal with everything that occurred so quickly in her life. Mama, Shawn, Daddy …

She remembered how selfish and weak she was after her mother and brother's deaths. After that, however, all she remembered was taking care of her dad with Maggie. She had to strengthen herself up.

Beth walked back in the infant room and began tidying up, hoping to clear away the worries fussing around in her mind.

* * *

Without a doubt, Carol could sense the tension between Beth and Daryl.

When Carol struck up a conversation with Beth, Daryl would stay silent, grab more food than his stomach could handle — unless he had, like, four stomachs — and drink his beer consistently. At times, he'd grunt when Carol mentioned him or asked him a yes or no question.

When Carol struck up a conversation with Daryl, Beth would smile at the appropriate moments. She didn't have much of an appetite, so she ended up moving her leftovers around with a fork. From time to time, she'd insert a morsel in her mouth to not appear rude. The bottle of wine at the middle of the table was taunting her.

Once Beth saw she ran out of leftovers, she began drinking her water a lot.

"You wanna know how me and Daryl met?" Carol asked, plopping a piece of celery in her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and then continued, "We didn't meet through Sophia. What happened to her only brought us closer, right, Daryl?"

Daryl grunted (yet again). He shoveled more food in his mouth.

"One afternoon, Sophia was at school. My, uh, husband — ex-husband." Beth felt the change in atmosphere; the tension mixed in with something heavy on her chest. "Ed. He's gone now, passed from a heart attack before Sophia … Well, yes, one afternoon, Ed and I were at a grocery store. Things got bad, and Daryl came in and helped alleviate the situation."

Beth sensed it was something more than that.

"Don't sugarcoat it, Carol," Daryl said irritably. "He gave you a black eye, I gave 'im two black eyes. End of story."

Shock came. All Beth knew was that Carol had an unhappy relationship with her passed ex-husband. She was completely unaware that she was involved in domestic abuse.

_Domestic abuse _and_ a lost daughter_, she thought sadly.

But Daryl coming in to the rescue? That really said something about his character.

Reaching across the table, Beth grasped Carol's hand comfortingly and smiled. "You're a strong woman, Carol," she remarked.

Carol grasped it back just as tight. "So are you, honey."

The eighteen-year-old averted her eyes away after that. With a slight smile, she pulled her hand away and felt a pair of eyes burning her.

Carol set her eating utensils aside. She placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands underneath her chin. Glancing at the both of them, she smiled. "So, how did you two meet?" she asked curiously.

Beth snuck a brave glance toward Daryl who was taking a swig of his beer and staring rather intensely at the carpet underneath the dining table.

She scowled slightly, knowing she'd have to answer.

"Through Glenn," Beth answered. "He's dating my older sister."

"Oh yes, of course. How could I have not known that? I thought me and Glenn were Daryl's only friends." Carol looked at Daryl. "Why am I not updated on your life, Daryl Dixon?"

Daryl replied simply, "Nothin' important to update you on."

A wave of hurt crashed on Beth. _We are not friends. You are not allowed to feel like this._

"What? I beg to differ. Beth, sweetie, your sweet personality must've somehow wormed its way inside this man's heart." Carol winked at her. "You two are an unlikely pair to form a friendship."

_It's so unlikely, it can't happen. Right, Daryl?_ Beth thought bitterly. He was never upfront about how he felt regarding their potential friendship, but he was a man of action, she perceived. His actions showed it.

She saw that he looked away once her eyes connected with his.

Carol's eyebrows furrowed once nobody commented on her statement. "Am I missing something here?"

His reply was abrupt: "Nothin'."

_Yes. Nothing. Absolutely nothing._

Beth stood up from her chair. "May I please be excused to the bathroom, Carol?"

Carol was concerned but told her anyway, "Yes, of course. Down the hall, then take a right. The first door you see."

Beth tried to keep her speed normal. She didn't want to seem like she was running away. She probably was, but she couldn't function properly. She also felt like she couldn't breathe.

Once she was inside the bathroom, she turned on the sink and splashed her face with cold water. She kept her head down, watching the water slide down her face and drop into the sink, disappearing.

She felt weak. So weak.

The feeling felt oh so familiar. Most likely because she was just that. A weak person, someone who couldn't handle the pressure of a situation, someone who couldn't handle the negativities of a situation.

Beth shook her head. She dabbed her face dry with toilet tissue (she wouldn't dare use Carol's washcloth without permission) and took two deep breaths.

_Stop letting him get into your head. You're doing this for Carol_, she thought.

Beth opened the bathroom door and exited. She attempted to fix up her composure as she exited. No need for any more worried looks.

Before she rounded the corner, she heard Carol and Daryl talking with each other. About her.

"You two barely talked," Carol pointed out.

"Nothin' to say," Daryl muttered.

"Is that your word of the day? 'Nothing'? Something tells me you two had an argument."

"We're fine, Carol."

The older woman sighed. "Look, I know it's hard for you to let people in. Is that the problem? You having trouble letting Beth in your life? I got news for you, Daryl. She already is in your life. She's a sweet, sweet girl who has been through a lot these past few years. She needs someone, and maybe … maybe that someone is you."

"Carol, I can't be that person. I ain't good at being whatever the hell she needs."

"You already are the person she needs. A friend."

Beth shut her eyes tightly. If this situation occurred when she was still her old self, she would have no problem with being upfront with Daryl. However, with everything that happened recently, she was sensitive. Her dad passed, and not long after, Maggie found someone to help her through that tragedy. Not long after, the only place she called home, the place she grew up in, had to be sold.

It was hard to be herself because she was hurting. She was scrubbed raw by the trials of her life.

Smiling, Beth approached the two. "Need help with anything, Carol?" she offered.

"Oh no, I've got everything covered. You heading home now?"

Beth nodded. "But are you sure?"

Carol smiled softly at her. "I'm sure." She shoved Daryl away with her shoulder. "Even you, go on home. You've got work in the morning, don't you?"

Daryl put away the rag he was using to wipe the dining table. "Yeah, yeah," he drawled.

After Beth said her final goodbyes, she headed out. The cool wind hit her suddenly. She wrapped her cardigan tightly around her. Approaching her second-hand vehicle — a compact, four-door sold at a reasonable price, luckily — she opened the driver's side and entered. Instantly, she started the car and turned on the heater.

While she warmed up, she took out her cell phone and checked if she had any missed calls or text messages.

"What's the point?" Beth muttered after realizing there wasn't any. _Not like there's anyone to talk to nowadays._

She really needed to get out of this depressed state she was in. Was this how coping was? It sure went on slowly. None of these negative feelings were disappearing. In fact, at times, her life seemed like it was at a standstill — it gave the impression that it was going to stay like that forever.

_Coping. That's your job right now, Beth._

A knock on her window jostled her thoughts. Beth whipped her head to the left and saw Daryl leaning down. She let out a breath and rolled down the window.

"Yeah?"

Daryl bit the side of his mouth before saying, "Your fan belt's shit."

She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to elaborate.

"When you started your car, it started makin' this screechy sound, right? That's your fan belt right there. Ya gotta get it checked."

Beth was too engrossed in her thoughts to hear it. Come to think of it, she didn't ever hear that screechy sound ever since she bought the car.

It was her routine. She was acclimated to it, causing her to be mechanical about every single action she made. The only time she was calm or actually enjoying the moment was when she was with Judith or listening to music.

_What is coping, exactly?_

" … for ya," Daryl was saying.

"I'm sorry, say that again?"

He let out a sigh that was part exasperated, part hesitant. "I said that I can check it for ya," he repeated. "Bring your car over tomorrow morning, 'round 9 at Abe's Saves."

Beth stared at him for a moment. Was he serious? " … Why?" she asked slowly.

In turn, he gave her a blank look. "'Cause your fan belt's shit."

She continued staring at him. This time, however, her face had an expression that clearly told she wasn't going to take any more of his bullshit.

Then, Daryl sighed again and wiped a hand down his face. "I just want to, all right? Least I could do after acting like such an asshole to you that time."

"I thought you fixin' up my sink was an apology enough for you. As if you actually said sorry."

"Look, I'm an asshole. A dick. I'm not … good at any of this."

Beth leaned forward. "At what?" she prompted. She wasn't going to make this easy for him. He had to be straightforward with her. Also, this was kind of thrilling. Was he actually showing interest in having a friendship with her? Was this really happening?

"Tch, girl, you know."

"I don't, actually."

"I can see through that damn innocent act you're pullin'."

It was hard to stifle the grin on her face. "But _I_ can't see what you're trying to say."

He was still trying to restrain himself, but after a while, Beth saw the reluctance melt away. What she then saw was an awkward, uncomfortable man. It was somewhat endearing to see.

_A grown man. Endearing. What a way to describe him_, she thought, mentally giggling.

All of a sudden, Daryl's blue eyes were shooting through hers. "I wanna fix your fan belt, and I wanna … talk to ya," he admitted.

Beth decided he had enough social suffering. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted to possibly be her friend.

She felt it then.

It was rising inside of her. Just earlier, it was lying dormant. It was an opportunity. It brought the smile, the laugh, the passion, the determination, and everything. People thought of it as something others would endlessly depend on or something for the naïve, the foolish.

Hope.

Before Daddy's death, hope got her through her worst days. She hoped for the better days, and some came, some didn't. All in all, it kept her head held up high. That was how she got her strength. That was how she maintained her optimism, her smiles.

After Daddy's death, hope went with him.

But now, seeing that hesitant but genuine look in Daryl's eyes, Beth gladly welcomed it back.

* * *

— _jsyk, what i'm trying to portray here is beth's emotional state right now. we all know that she's the strongest emotionally. however, here we see that emotional strength crumble bit by bit because she's struggling. she's been struggling, and she is becoming aware of it slowly. beth has no hope. what exactly is she living for? she always had a job to do, and i think that having a job, something to do, helps her move on and cope in some way or another. it keeps her focused.__  
_

_in my story, beth has a literal job, but the best part of it, which is judith, is taken away for two weeks. she needs to have something to look forward to because she's hurt, and she has no way to deal with it._

_she needs a friend. and that's daryl._

_(ugh, i hoped that made sense. my mind's fried.)_

_thank you all for your kindness and patience._


	5. allowance

"You do know this ain't no autoshop, right?"

"I'm well aware."

"You do know our add-on services are not for free, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"You do know that someone here can steal my guns right then and there if somebody does not pay attention, which makes some poor goddamn fool fully responsible for my guns, right?"

Daryl looked at Abraham exasperatingly. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be able ta afford any of this shit," he explained matter-of-factly.

The red-haired man shook his head, stroking one of his guns. "I highly disagree. Because of my time in the field, I got the rights to own some of these babies."

"Ya do know that this is a scrapyard, not a museum for your damn 'babies.'"

"Keep badmouthin' me, and I'll cut your pay quick."

Daryl rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. He was doing well financially. Granted, he wasn't affluent, but at least he wasn't struggling. He wouldn't dare risk it, though. No way in hell was he going to repeat that tiring time of his life.

Beth was coming to the scrapyard pretty soon, and Daryl was getting all of his equipment ready and checking if there were any usable spare parts lying around.

He just hoped she wouldn't be put off by Abraham's collection bestowed on the wall conspicuously.

_It was a bad decision_, said his cowardice.

_But screw it_, said his need.

Beth Greene was wormed in his life. Daryl did not know how. It must've been her big, blue eyes. He should accept her because it was the reality of things. He shouldn't push away something that could be good.

_Never knew you were into the sweet ones_, Merle taunted him. _Didn't peg you for one that liked 'em good and pure, baby brother._

In all honesty, Daryl was interested in Beth just as much as she was interested in him. She didn't outwardly say it, but why in the world would she want to be friends with him? Surely it wasn't money or a good time in the sheets. She was too _nice_.

And by "interested," he didn't mean that he liked her in a romantic sense. She was still eighteen-years-old, and he was still an adult. Although she was an adult, if you wanted to be technical, it wouldn't work either way. They didn't fit. He didn't fit with her.

Just thinking about her pure blue eyes being tainted by him bothered Daryl.

The rumbling of a car alerted Daryl of her presence. Screeching sounds soon followed after.

Abraham grimaced at the sound. "That her?" he inquired. "Her ride's dying inside."

"'S just the fan belt," Daryl informed him, approaching the entranceway of the building.

"Damn, doin' all of this for a fan belt."

The redneck ignored his boss. Beth got out of her vehicle, wearing a flannel sleeve shirt over a camisole with tight-fitting jeans and worn-down boots. She was smiling brightly, eyes crinkled with the smile and from the intense rays of the sun.

"Morning!" she greeted, all sunshiney. It was nine in the morning, but Daryl never met anyone so joyful around this time.

It sure was a huge contrast compared to the hesitant girl from last night.

Daryl nodded in response. "You can stay over here while I work on your car." He brought her to a couch with a table in front, magazines littered on top. He switched on the fan and let it oscillate. "Not much to keep you busy."

"That's perfectly fine. I'm really grateful that you're doing this, Daryl." Her blue eyes shone at his direction.

He averted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck. "It'll take 'bout thirty minutes. 'M not so sure about some of the spare parts 'round here."

Beth didn't respond for a while, so he turned his attention to her. She was busy gazing upon the collection of weaponry displayed ostentatiously behind Abraham's desk.

"Whoa, who owns this?" she asked, stepping closer.

"That'd be me, ma'am," Abraham announced, entering from the back entrance. He set his hands on his hips and looked up at his collection with pride. "Because of my position and recognition, I was able to keep some of these babies. Some of 'em I bought, some of 'em I found. Would've gotten more if I went on another tour, but unfortunately, I got injured and was honorably discharged."

"How many tours, sir?"

"Three, ma'am."

Beth was truly amazed at the collection. Many people stepped into the scrapyard and was amazed, as well. Some even gathered enough courage — Daryl had a scary reputation — to come back to take pictures of, which Abraham didn't mind usually. There were also offers to buy the collection, but Abraham always refused.

"It's wonderful," the blonde-haired girl commented. "There's so many. I don't even recognize some of 'em."

Daryl's boss made a sound of approval at her comment. "Worked hard."

"Of course. This collection isn't to show off your affinity for weaponry, right? It's to show the work you've done, the trials you've overcome during your tours. These are your accomplishments." She smiled, and Daryl knew Abraham was done for before he looked at him.

He was right. Abraham was looking at Beth with an open mouth. He cleared his throat. "That's, um, that's right. Thank you, ma'am."

It wasn't her blue eyes. Beth saw what many didn't see. She understood as best as she could. It was unfathomable, really. Daryl didn't think there would be anybody with as much empathy as Beth's.

He wondered if Beth had enough empathy for him.

It didn't seem possible.

_You're broken. That girl right there? She don't understand the broken world we've lived in_, Merle spoke. _A world you're still livin' in, eh?_

Beth managed to worm her way inside Daryl's life, but he was keeping her out for now. She could open the door but not step inside. He didn't know how she got inside Abraham's heart, and he didn't want to know.

Frankly, Beth scared the shit out of him. She was unreal.

While Daryl worked on her car, Beth was sitting on a stool beside him. Apparently she didn't want to hang around at the makeshift waiting room. He didn't blame her. The couch was squeaky, and the springs were sticking out and they would poke her ass. The magazines weren't in her interest, and although the fan worked, it made a racket.

"You seem to be good at tinkerin' around with cars," she started conversationally, swinging her legs to and fro. "How come you're not a mechanic?"

"Ain't good at socializin'," he replied, busy tinkering.

"I can see that."

Daryl lowered the hood down a bit and saw her smirking at him playfully. Who knew that all he had to do was succumb to see that side of her?

He ignored that comment and went back to work. He felt a smile tugging at his lips. Apparently succumbing also meant seeing her sassy side.

Daryl didn't make a lot of good choices in his life. He always had an uncomfortable feeling about Beth, but he never had a rough feeling about her. She was … different. A friendship between them was certainly unexpected.

But so was a friendship with an Asian kid with a dry sense of humor and widowed woman that sometimes flirted with him playfully.

Glenn was about ten years younger, and Carol was almost ten years older than him …

Daryl was starting to notice a pattern here.

"Let's play a game," Beth suggested.

"I'm workin' here," Daryl said. He squinted his eyes and eyed the fan belt carefully. _Explains the noise._ "Your belt's corrodin' a bit but nothin' big. Don't need to replace it."

"Do what you can. And you all you have to do is talk for this game."

He sighed, exasperated. "What's the game?"

"Hey now, no attitude, Mr. Dixon," she chastised. "You said you wanted to talk, right? And the game's called the 'Assumption Game.'"

He grunted for her to explain. His finger pressed down on the fan belt to see if it'll depress more than an inch.

"To avoid any more bad tension between the two of us, we'll play this game where we assume things about each other. And we'll, y'know, get them out of the way."

When he went around the grab something, Daryl saw enthusiasm, determination and a bit of hesitation in her eyes. He could tell she really wanted to be his friend and get to know him, but based on how their relationship was before, and his personality, he understood the hesitation. She was scared that he might snap at her and refuse.

Daryl wanted to know her. He wanted to know what made her so … involved, for lack of better words.

"Well? Go on and start then," he told her. But he was scared, too. Just hearing all the assumptions she had of him made him uneasy. He knew there was an abundance of them that wasn't exactly pleasing.

Beth smiled brightly and proceeded to spin around on the stool, contemplating. "Hmmm," she said thoughtfully. "You're a camper."

He didn't expect that to be the first thing to pop out of her mouth. Always unpredictable. "Close. I ain't no camper, but 'm a hunter."

She leaned forward, intrigued. "What do you hunt?"

"Thought this was 'bout assumptions, not questions."

She shrugged. "I made up the game, but I stole the name from a children's game. Okay, fine. Your turn."

It didn't take much for him since so many popped up in his mind. "Ya never shot a gun before." He drew that one from her innocence.

But Beth shook her head. "I'm a country girl, Daryl. And my daddy was, um — " She stopped briefly, eyes turning downcast. "He was, uh, pretty paranoid sometimes. He wanted us to be prepared for whatever's to come like the apocalypse or somethin'. I'm not that good, but I shot a shotgun before — hit three cans outta five. Haven't touched one since, though."

_Not bad_, he thought. All he said was, "Hm."

"You have tattoos, don't'cha?"

He nodded.

Beth groaned. "Can't you at least provide some background story? Or anythin', I dunno, more than your short replies?"

"Ain't nothin' else to add on, girl. You were right, I got tattoos."

"No story to tell?"

_None that I wanna share._ "No."

"Some talk we're havin' here," she muttered snarkily.

He let out an inaudible sigh, caused by her insistence and his attitude. "You wanna be a singer."

At that, she got quiet and stared at the ground silently. She twisted a bit on the stool and tapped her boot on its leg.

Finally, Beth said softly, "Nah. I just like singin'."

Daryl forced himself to ask, "What do you wanna be then?"

He thought she was going to say that he wasn't playing the game right, either. She didn't. "My major's social work. I aspire to be a social worker. I … I like helpin' people out."

With her sweet personality, it was no wonder.

The two stayed quiet for a moment, game on hold. Daryl was long done preventing any further squeaky noises by the fan belt. However, he stayed in front of the hood, staring at the engine and wiping his hands with his do-rag, and waited for Beth's assumption.

He had qualms about the game. It was actually a productive game, though; he was getting to know Beth in an unique manner.

"You didn't want to be my friend because you're a reserved guy. You have trust issues, don't you?" Beth asked, looking up at him underneath her eyelashes.

Daryl cut his eyes away from the engine to glance at her. _What's she playin' at__? _he thought suspiciously.

She continued on, eyes staring at him resolutely, "At first, I thought it was because I'm young and stuff, but that's a bullshit excuse. You're friends with Glenn, and he's younger than you, too.

"So … then … I thought it was 'cause you have trust issues. I mean, I didn't want to assume — ugh, well, _of course_ I'm assuming right now, but … I feel like you were hesitant on being my friend because of that … reason."

His jaw was taut. His do-rag was suffocating in his fist. He had a bad feeling on what her point was going to be.

"You've lost somebody recently. Just like me."

Daryl began to feel the spew of nasty words boiling in his mouth. He slammed the hood down with too much force, startling Beth.

"Fan belt's done," he said tersely before walking to the desk behind her. He dumped his tools inside the toolbox on top of it.

Thankfully, Beth didn't press onto her assumption any longer. She jumped off the stool and approached him slowly.

_Great. You try to not be a dick, you end up scarin' her_, Daryl scolded himself.

"How much?" she inquired.

"Nothin'."

"Are you sure? I mean, you're not even a mechanic — "

"'S fine, _damn_," he almost snapped. For some reason, he felt déjà vu. It hit him then. This situation was paralleling that time at her house, when he was helping her move in.

The only reason why he was acting like this was because he was uncomfortable. It never failed. She saw through him as if she knew him. It bothered him incredibly. He was way too exposed around her.

Beth bit her lip. "I'm sorry for being too forward. I played the game too eagerly, huh?" she apologized. "I stepped over my boundaries."

Daryl placed his hands on the desk, and a deep breath escaped his lungs. "You were just playin' the game."

She let out a small smile at that, but she still looked apologetic and guilty. "Before I leave, did you wanna assume anything else about me?"

His blue eyes connected with hers suddenly. He stared at her long and hard, mulling over his thoughts over what to say — even though he knew it already. He was stalling, partly because he was hesitant and partly because _fuck_, those blue eyes really did something.

_She can only be your friend, you idiot. She's just got nice eyes, that's it. Don't go acting like some horny fuck._

Daryl gathered as much courage as he could possibly get.

"You care a lot, huh?" he murmured.

A different smile came. She smiled again, nose wrinkling, eyes squinting, and face lighter. It reminded him of the smile that she had when she exited her vehicle earlier. It was more intimate, though. He had the urge to look away, but he couldn't. He didn't. He kept the connection.

"Mainly for the special ones," Beth said honestly.

* * *

_— in this relationship, i feel like beth and daryl are _both _romantic, y'know? daryl's awkward with his romantic gestures and words; beth's more vocal about it and forward when it comes to romance. _

_this chapter was basically me trying to highlight beth's good points. guess who's next?_

_i'm trying to finish this story before school starts (like next week already), but it's proving to be impossible since i'm busy. i don't want to rush this story too. it's not fair to you guys, and i don't want to do that anyway._

_oh, life._

_thanks for reading. :)_


End file.
